


The Weekend Bookseller

by Kaikajo



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Bookstore AU, F/M, Gen, hope ya'll enjoy, i hope they aren't ooc too, i tried to keep them in char for the situation they're in, short fic series!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-04-26 13:24:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14403036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaikajo/pseuds/Kaikajo
Summary: Lucy sneaks into a local bookstore called "Fairy Tail's" every Sunday to escape her jail-like mansion to play with the bookstore's cat, Happy. One sunny, spring afternoon, she runs into Natsu: the new part timer who recently moved in with the bookstore's owner, Makarov, who only works on weekends. After years of her father severing her contacts with others, will Lucy be able to keep this one safe?





	1. Gramps' Homestyle Spaghetti Recipe

**Author's Note:**

> Very creative title (^': This is just a lil short story I whipped up out of the blue! I wanted to make something a little more light hearted (I mean, compared to the rest of my fics this will definitely be on the more lighthearted side LOL), so here ya go! This will only be a couple of chapters, so it'll be a short series fic. Won't have a constant update schedule, but it shouldn't run for too long. I was missing writing these two, so I wanted to write something short for them whenever I'm free (this is like a no pressure fic, which I love). Hope you enjoy!

Lucy nervously shuffled around the store on her feet, hiding behind bookcases, avoiding the front door, and steering clear of all windows. If someone - anyone - who knew her or her father found out she was here, Jude would be _livid_. Not only was she sneaking out every Sunday, but just to visit a local bookstore because of their cat? He would lock her up in that wretched mansion for as long as she could live.

Despite that looming danger, Lucy couldn’t help but let it fade into a distant memory whenever she spotted the weird blue cat that loitered in the bookstore. It had a small little green backpack on with a dangling golden tag around its neck.

"Happy" was engraved on it, and his name fit exactly what it meant.

Lucy almost giggled with happiness when the little cat trotted over to her, sending ecstatic meows her way as it rubbed its head against her calf. She bent down to scratch him behind his ears, he purred and nuzzled against her palm with content.

“Hey, aren’t you the girl that lives over the hill? Lucy Heartfilia?”

Lucy jumped in her skin as she shot her head up towards the voice, alarms blared off in her head, telling her to _run_. Running now would make her suspicious, and cause even more attention to be turned towards her. If she stayed low and kept calm, maybe she could get away unscathed.

“No,” Lucy replied back, casting a dazzling smiling towards the pink haired man. She could feel the sweat beginning to build up on her forehead. “I'm-” She paused for a second and glanced back down at Happy, who was still rubbing his head against her hand. No one knew her mother, she died before they moved here. “I'm Layla. I just moved into Magnolia a couple of weeks ago.”

“I knew I’ve seen you around!” Red crawled up to his cheeks as he laughed. “You look exactly like her, well, I'm going off with how a friend described her. I almost thought I caught sight of a ghost.” He tucked in a book that was pulled too far out. “No one in town has seen her for years, she’s like this urban legend now.”

“Huh,” Lucy responded back, slightly amused. Had it been that long since she interacted with people outside of the mansion? “Do I look like her that much? I’m sure there’s a lot of people who look like me.” Lucy dismissed it with the wave of her hand, she focused in on the books in front of her, giving them an unusual amount of interest.

Cookbooks, pasta recipes. She had close to almost zero experience in cooking. She tilted one out of the shelf and flipped through it as if she were trying to look for a specific recipe.

“You looking for something specific?” He bent down next to her to get a better look at whatever she was flipping through.

The color drained from Lucy’s face the moment the words left his mouth. “Yeah…” She stretched out the word as she flipped through some more stiff pages, rather frantically. Why did she say yes? She had a knack of making things ten times more complicated for herself. “A… spaghetti recipe?” She suggested, more to herself than to him.

“Spaghetti?” The man stood back up, her eyes followed him, then latched onto his name tag which hung loosely from the pocket of his white shirt.

NATSU. It was written in red, with flames on both sides of his name. A little hard to read, but Lucy liked the artistic side of it.

“Gramps actually has this really good spaghetti recipe. I can grab it from the back and you can take a pic of it?” Natsu extended his hand out for her to grab. Lucy shifted her eyes to his hands. They were calloused and rough, they looked warm.

Lucy grabbed the shelf and lifted herself up.

“That would be great, actually. Better than buying a whole cookbook for just one recipe.”

“Exactly, this is just between you and me though.” He winked, dropping his hand back to his side as if he never offered it. A smooth recovery, it didn’t even faze him, yet Lucy still felt a stab of guilt in her gut. Happy stayed hot on her trail, sometimes going her pace, sometimes going ahead of them. He would meow whenever they were too slow for him, she smiled at him whenever they made eye contact.

The store was interestingly large for a small town bookstore, it had an upstairs balcony-like second floor near the back of the store with tables and chairs, along with more bookshelves that inched every piece of the wall. Downstairs, where Lucy had been, was riddled in many bookshelves and random knick knacks of journals, glass ornaments, jewelry boxes, and bookmarkers. She spotted occasional pins and stickers, but those only seem to be in stock every now and then.

“Alrighty!” Natsu swung behind the staircase, which revealed a small, tiny storage room. It was overflowing with loose pages, old dusted books, and several worn out lamps. Lucy’s nose scrunched up as the dust around them began to flutter about when Natsu opened up one of the journals on the old wooden desk. “Let’s see, let’s see…” He mumbled as he flipped through the book. He muttered words of “gotch’a” and “not so fast” to himself as he caught loose pages almost flying out of their designated spots in the book.

Lucy kept her hands behind her back as she rocked back and forth on her feet, nervously glancing behind herself as she waited. This was _weird_ . Beyond weird. This wasn’t supposed to happen. So much for keeping a low profile. Plus, she hated spaghetti! Maybe she could say she had to run, she had an appointment or errand or _something_ -

“Got it!” Natsu lifted the piece of paper into the air in triumph as he whipped around to face her, eyes gleaming with excitement as if he won the lottery and earned a million jewels. “Gramps’ homestyle spaghetti recipe.”

“Ah, I forgot my phone at home.” Lucy fumbled around in her bag for her notebook and pencil, her eyes widened as her compact mirror and other spare pens and pencils clattered to the floor. “Oh-!” Lucy immediately dipped down to grab it, but Natsu was faster.

“I got it-” He held the compact mirror in his hand for a second longer than necessary, staring at the design. He ran his thumb lightly across it, the bumps were smooth against his skin. It was metal, beaded in such a beautiful design, he was mesmerized. The zodiac star signs circled around the edges, and in the middle was the moon. He could feel the ridges and indents of the moon, he could feel the dots on the stars that made each sign. The background, a deep dark blue, reflected against the dimly lit flame from the lamp; sparkling, glittering, like a thousand stars.

Lucy ripped it from his hands, he flinched back in response. Her knuckles were white from gripping it.

“Sorry-” He gathered the rest of her things and handed it to her. This time, she took it gently, her face flushed with embarrassment.

She opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it, only nodding her head in response. He lifted the recipe for her to see, and she quickly scribbled it down. They didn’t speak the entire time, and the growing silence only made her writing shakier.

“It's really pretty.” He said once she stopped writing. Lucy glanced up at him, afraid for some reason, but when she saw him she lowered the journal from obscuring her face. He was looking at her so softly, as if she were some mystical being.

“Thanks.” She lowered the journal completely, letting the bottom of it hit her thighs. “My mom gave it to me as a birthday present.” Lucy stared down at his shoes. They were faded, ripping at the sides. He shuffled back, his shoes went out of view. She glanced back up at him, his eyes were strayed away from her, as if he was embarrassed. Another pang of guilt punched her in the gut. She sucked in a breath and smiled. “Thanks for the recipe, I’ll definitely try it out tonight.”

His eyes lit up and his toothy grin returned, it made her chest feel warm.

“Awesome, tell me how it is next time you come!”

Lucy smiled back nervously, remembering how this wasn’t even supposed to happen, before casting her eyes away this time. “Yeah, of course!” She took a step back, her leg bumped into something soft. Happy purred, circling around her legs. She almost forgot about him.

“Happy, always getting in the way,” Natsu shook his head and picked up the cat, he nuzzled his nose against Happy’s. “He really likes you, doesn’t he?” Natsu propped Happy up so that they were both facing her. Lucy snorted at the sight of them both, they displayed their emotions flat out on their faces, they could’ve been the same person.

“He’s the best,” Lucy scratched him behind his ears again, Happy nuzzled back into her hand in return. “I’ve got to get going, thank you so much for the recipe!” Lucy walked back out of the storage room. "My aunt Spetto loves spaghetti and she's visiting this evening, I bet she'll love it." Another lie, another day. Miss Spetto and Lucy were as different as night and day, but she acted more of a parent than Jude.

"She'll never want to leave after tasting this, I swear by my soul." Natsu said solemnly, as if he was taking an oath. Lucy chuckled and stopped by the front door, giving Happy one last stroke on the head.

“If you need any fantastic noodle recipes, just find me! I know all of the family secret recipes." Natsu smiled wide. "We hope to see you soon!” He raised Happy’s paw and waved it at her. “Say bye to Layla!” Happy meowed in response and playfully nipped at his hand until Natsu released his paw.

Lucy couldn’t help but smile, she waved back.


	2. Home Sweet Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yee second chapter! A lil on Natsu’s backstory here. (Also available on my tumblr and Fanfic.net! You can access it through my fanfic page on my tumblr, which is lyeifa <3)

Natsu wasn’t sure what was worse: the heatwave or the melting ice cream that was beginning to drip down his hand. Lisanna’s voice was beating in the background, squabbling about her siblings like usual, it made him feel at ease. It was the only thing that was the same after everything that’s happened.

Natsu blinked hard as Lisanna’s shadowy head obscured the sun from sweltering down on him. “You okay?” she asked, passing him her handkerchief. 

“Yeah, just a li’l hot...” Natsu trailed off, gratefully accepting it and wiping down his face.

“Oh?” Lisanna raised an eyebrow and grabbed her bag. “You  _ never _ get hot, this is a suprise. It’s because of that blazer, you never take it off.”

Natsu shoved the rest of his ice cream into his mouth and stretched, throwing his hands back behind him and his legs out forward. He was always hot, no matter what, he just couldn’t seem to shake it off. “I like having it on, it’s part of outfit-” 

“Yeah  _ okay _ ,” Lisanna snorted. “You’re as red as a tomato, Natsu. Just take it off.” She glanced down at her watch and stood up, shouldering her backpack. “I don’t need you having a heat stroke and passing out next to me again.” She tapped away on her phone, probably texting Mira or Elfman.

Natsu let out a hot breath and shook his head, standing up. “Is there someone in our school named Layla? New?”

Lisanna stared up from her phone, interest piqued in her eyes. She tilted her head, narrowing her eyes at one of the stray ladybugs fluttering above their heads. “Not that I know of? The only Layla that was ever in this town passed away years ago. We haven’t had a transfer student in a while, you’re the first one in years.”

Natsu frowned. So, Layla didn’t go to their school. Would that mean he would only get to see her on the weekends? He was pretty sure he spooked her out at some point when they met. She didn’t look much younger than him, so it was safe to assume that they were around the same age…

“Oh?” Lisanna’s head popped up in front of him, the view of the cracked asphalt disappeared. A sly smile played out on her lips. “A crush? Who is it? Someone you met from work?”

“Psh,” Natsu dismissed her, waving his hand. “Not even close. It’s nothing,” Natsu began walking, his usual tactic of avoiding topics.

“Aw come on, you can tell me. How long have we been friends for?” Lisanna probed him on, shouldering him. “Who helped you settle when you moved in? Hm?”

“Elfman.” Natsu raised an eyebrow. Lisanna rolled her eyes.

“Alright then, who taught you how to cook?” Lisanna smirked.

“Mirajane.”

“Oh  _ come on _ . I definitely helped more than her!”

“No, she was the one that bought everything, all we did was crack eggs and stir or whatever.” Natsu shouldered her lightly.

“Sure, whatever you say,” Lisanna said. “Do you want to come over for dinner? Mirajane is making some spicy food.” 

Natsu stopped at the two way intersection. The sun was unrelenting. “Nah, I should head home, Makarov needs help fixing up the porch again.”

“I’ll bring some over tomorrow for lunch then. See ya tomorrow!” She waved her hand loosely at him, tossing a quick grin before she disappeared behind the buildings. Natsu’s smile fell as soon as she disappeared, he stood there with his hands in his pockets. He didn’t like going back “home”. He didn’t want to see Makarov, he didn’t want to see that sad face he did whenever Natsu walked through the front door. He just wanted him to forget about it, but every time Natsu walked through that door, Makarov would always bring it up. Always bring up the fire, the burning building, his parents, his siblings- gone. They were all gone. They weren’t coming back, talking about it wouldn’t do squat. Natsu tore his gaze from the cracked asphalt, raising his head high, high, and higher, until he couldn’t strain to look up anymore. The sun beat down on him. His jacket felt like dead weight against his aching shoulders. 

He ran a hand through his sweaty hair,  letting out a breath of air, and closed his eyes. Rinse and repeat, whatever this was, it was temporary. He forced his legs to take a step, then another, until he was dragging himself down the road, back on home.

* * *

Natsu had to strangle the door for it to open, shoving it back and forth until it jittered open. He slinked through the door, hoping to miss Makarov, until he heard quiet, hushed voices coming from the living room.

“Now’s not a good time,” Makarov started, but he was immediately hushed by another low voice. 

“When’s a good time then? A year? Two years? It’s been a month already, we need to start making plans-”

“A  _ seventeen _ year old boy just lost his entire family, it’s only been a damn month, and you want to start talking about the money his dead family left?”

“Sir, my job is to make sure this boy gets as much money as he can so that he won’t be dirt poor by the time he becomes an adult-”

“That’s why I took him in!”

Natsu knocked on the open door with his knuckles, jolting both men up in their seat in alarm.

“Natsu-” Color drained from Makarov’s face. 

Natsu averted his gaze to the man. “I’m ready, it’s better to do this earlier than later, right?” Natsu smiled cheekily at the both of them. He sat down next to Makarov, his elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward. “So, how much did they leave?”

“Well…” The man began, he put out the papers stained with small letters in front of Natsu, explaining in exact detail what was going to happen to him from here on out: how much money he was going to get after they processed the funeral fee and services, what they left in the will, the investments his parents had…

But they all passed in a blur. In one ear and out the other. The man’s voice sounded slow and muted, sloshy and dripping, as if it was melting. He couldn’t understand a word he was saying. Natsu nodded every time the man paused for a brief moment, cueing for him to continue. He could feel Makarov’s eyes boring into his side, stabbing and pricking him. 

“...and there’s that.” The man concluded, leaning back to sit straight. He let out a sigh, a breath of finality and relief to have been done. “Any questions?”

Natsu leaned back as well, but leaned into the cushion of the sofa, he wanted to disappear into it. “Yeah, all good. No questions, I get it.” The man smiled and stood up, Natsu and Makarov followed suit.

“A pleasure, Mr. Dragneel. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Well, thanks.” Natsu passed him a stiff smile and grabbed his hand, giving him a firm handshake.

The moment the man left the house, Makarov didn’t hesitate to pounce onto him. 

“You could’ve waited, Natsu. If you’re not ready, or if you didn’t want to deal with the financial side of this, I could’ve handled it-”

“I’m fine,” Natsu replied back, keeping his back towards him. “I’m just glad it’s over with.” He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up even more than before. “I’m gonna hit the hay, I’m not hungry.” He walked out and into his room before Makarov could say anything. He threw his backpack on his bed, it smacked against the wall with a pathetic thud, collapsing onto the side of his bed. His notebooks and textbooks partially spilled out.

Pathetic.

Natsu dropped onto his bed, exhaling into his pillow as he mussed up his hair even  _ more _ , until it became a web of tangles and disaster. This was stupid, just  _ stupid _ . He buried his head into his pillow until it became hard to breath, like the smoke…

The suffocatingly choking smoke of burning flesh and rubber.

He jolted out of his position as if someone electrocuted him, he scrambled back, his vision turned lopsided and twisted. He fell with a thud, everything upside down with his legs stuck up into the air as the foot of his bed propped them up. 

Pathetic.

He rolled to the side, laying on the ground on his stomach, his cheek felt cold against the cool wooden floorboards. Finally, something cold. Natsu wanted to strip himself bare so he wouldn’t have to feel the warmth anymore. 

After an hour, maybe two, he dragged himself up and stood in front of his dresser, grabbing onto the one and only photo he had left of his family. It was framed, he hadn’t changed it from when he snatched it from his old dresser before trying to escape. His foster dad had remarried years ago, to someone named Grandine. She had a daughter, Wendy.

Wendy. She was only twelve. His eyes flitted over to Zeref, his older brother. They never found his remains, they said he probably burned to ashes. Igneel and Grandine. They adopted Zeref and Natsu before he could remember, when his biological parents burned to death when Natsu was only three, Zeref was still just a kid.

The fire came back to haunt him, it taunted him. It reminded him that it would take everything away from him, that it could. That it would do it again, and it did.

Natsu smashed the framed picture against the wall, the glass shattering like cracking ice. The picture fluttered down softly, gently landing back onto the dresser, amongst the small glass shards and charred, broken pieces of the wooden frame. The back was faced up, Wendy had drawn a smiley face, a cute little cat with wings, she had written the date underneath. His hand twitched as he read the date over and over, blood ran down his fingertips, hitting the creaking floorboards. He lifted his hand up, shaking, and stared hard at the pieces of glass jutting from his palm and fingers; he couldn’t feel a thing. He couldn’t feel a damn thing.


End file.
